Project 527: RWE
by birdsworkforthegovernment
Summary: Emerson was oblivious to the fact she had been living a lie her whole life. She never knew why it was that she felt so disconnected from her family. Now, four brothers must do everything in their power to make sure she stays safe, or else it could mean the end of the world. Watch what happens when a "normal" teenager and four turtles meet. [RaphXOC]
1. Chapter One: Pilot

**CHAPTER ONE: Introduction**

Emerson sat in the passenger seat of her mother's car, casually watching the New York scenery pass her by. The route was familiar to her by now and she took pleasure in watching the signs and buildings she recognized flash her by. Her mother, on the other hand, only looked ahead of her. 'Not like that's unusual,' she thought.

Emerson Adler had always felt like a stranger to her mother. Sure, she had known the woman for seventeen years, (which was the entirety of her life) but instances like this reminded her just how strained her relationship with her mother really was. Not that she didn't try to work on it, they both did. However, trying was sometimes just as disappointing as not trying.

"So, I..uh..got that prompt for my history class.." Emerson said, trying to ease some of the tension in the car.

"Oh?" Her mother said questionably. Emerson could tell she was not interested, but at least she had responded.

"Yeah," she continued, shifting away from the window and toward the middle of the car. "We have to argue whether women's lives improved or not from the 1920s to the 1950s." She mother's eyebrows lifted slightly, a sign she was at least a little interested now.

"You get to choose?"

"Yeah… Supposed to be a persuasive essay I guess," Emerson shrugged.

"When's it due?" She asked while turning the car. Emerson could tell that they were close to home.

"By the end of the month," Emerson responded quickly.

"What's it out of?" Her mother pulled to a parking structure by their apartment.

"A hundred points. Nothing too big, but.." Emerson shrugged, not really sure what to say.

"Better get it done then," her mother fished, parking the car. Emerson only nodded her head, not really wanting the conversation to go anywhere further than it had already gone. She grabbed her bag from her seat and closed the car door, walking up the steps to her family's apartment. She heard her mother behind her lock the car and follow her up the steps.

"Is Dad home?" Emerson asked without looking back.

"Yes," her mother replied in a monotone voice.

Internally, Emerson sighed with relief. Her mother and she could really only coexist if her father was there. He kept the two at bay, offered topics of conversation when awkward silence presented itself. He was really the glue that kept her small family together. Knowing he was home waiting for them lifted a little bit of the car-ride anxiety from her shoulders.

She finally reached her family's door, opening it and holding it for her mother. When she passed through, Emerson closed it again and walked to her right, entering the kitchen. Setting her stuff on the small kitchen table, she found her way to the fridge, grabbing a can of soda and cracking it open. Before she could even take a sip, something small and fuzzy touched her leg, almost making her jump. Looking down, she was relieved to see the familiar face.

"Bug, I almost had a heart attack," she bent down to her furry friend, patting his head first before scooping up the small kitten. "Who would be here to sneak you table scraps if I died, huh?" She asked sarcastically. The black and white cat didn't respond, only pressing himself further into her arms for warmth. Emerson slightly chuckled, taking sip of her drink and carrying Bug with her to her room. She placed him on top of her bed, making sure to place him on a spot where there were plenty of blankets for him to lay on. Bug stretched his body, releasing a silent yawn and made himself comfortable on Emerson's bed. She shook her head at the cat's behavior. 'What I wouldn't give to have your life, Bug.'

She went to her window, the one connected to a fire escape, and opened it slightly, hoping to get some airflow into her stuffy room. She looked out the window a bit, admiring her view. She really did love New York, arguably one of the most famous states in the country. She knew there were probably many beautiful places out there, but to her, none of them could compare to her own home state. She had always felt a weird sense of acceptance living in the land where dreams were made. There was always something to be done, always adventures to be had and journeys to take here. The thought of not living in New York almost terrified her.

Behind her, she heard two swift knocks on her already opened door, waking her up from her thoughts. She turned and saw her father, wearing his almost always present goofy grin.

"I was wondering where my Cuddle Bug went," he said, making his way to the bed where the cat slept, "but now I see I've been betrayed," he finished.

"I've tried telling you I'm his favorite," Emerson said, watching her father pet the cat, making him purr softly.

"How was school?" he asked, changing the topic.

"Good," she replied, putting her drink down on the desk next to the window. "Kevin finally gave us our essay prompts," She said.

"So I heard," he said. "I find it odd you call almost call of your teachers by their first names," he narrowed his eyes with a hint of confusion, however he didn't look at her..

"You find anything a person does odd," emerson pointed out, crossing her arms on her chest.

"Guess I choose the right profession then," he said, finally looking at her to wink. She only responded by rolling her eyes, not trying to hide the smile inching its way to her face.

Her father was a psychologist. When he was young, he went to a local community college with an undeclared major. It was there, he always told her, that he discovered his fascination with the human mind; how it works the way it does and such. Although he had told her that he used to do lab research and run his own experiments, he now mainly focused on child psychology, and was the head psychologist on a school psychology team. She never knew why he stopped his experiments; the way he would talk about that, she could tell he really loves doing it. His eyes would light up, his face would wrinkle around his eyes and lips and he would smile big. Of course, she could tell he was happy with the job he had now, but she also knew it wasn't the same for him.

"I was thinking of heading over to Lucy's to brainstorm on the prompt. Would that be cool?" Emerson asked casually, trying to stop the overflowing thoughts in her brain.

"Totally radical, Em!" Her father said, imitating a stereotypical "surfer-dude" voice. She could tell he was trying to make her laugh, he was always doing that.

"How are we related?" Emerson asked bluntly, using all the force she had in her not to chuckle. Suddenly, a voice from across the apartment caught both of their attentions.

"Ryan, your work phone is ringing!" her mother said in a tone Emerson swore was specifically reserved for mothers. Even though the voice wasn't directed toward her, she could feel the six-years-old version of her coward inside of her.

"Well," her father said, giving Bug one last stroke before getting up. "Duty calls."

"Go save the children," Emerson said enthusiastically, gesturing toward the door and bowing her head slightly. The two smiled at each other before her father walked out. Emerson found her drink on the desk again and brought it to her lips, chugging half of it. As she drank, she walked over toward her bed, then, when finished, she put the half empty can down on her bedside table. Her blanket layed haphazardly on her bed, since she saw no reason to make it in the morning; she was only going to get back in it, so why bother? She took off her sneakers, resting them next to the bed, and slipped into her unmade bed, burrowing herself into the comfort of her blankets and pillows.

"Whadda say Bug? How 'bout a quick cat nap?" Bug, having been disturbed from his resting place by Emerson's feet, stretched his body before lazily, then walked enthusiastically up towards her arms. He quickly plopped himself down in the crevice between her arm and her side.

"Who am I kidding? You're a pro at naps," Emerson said quietly chuckled. Taking her phone out of her pocket, she set a timer for one hour. Her phone was placed on the table beside her drink. She pet the top of Bug's head, hearing and feeling his gentle purr. The let the soft mewls of Bug loll her to dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter Two: Persistance

Below the city, Raphael sat in his bean bag chair placed in the middle of the lair, reading a comic book he had stolen from his brother, much to his demise. He hated being stuck in the sewers as much as any other person. Being caged down until sunset made him feel like a prisoner. However, he knew that the sun was still out, and would be for the next couple hours. There was really nothing he could do except pass the time until night fell. Once the sky grew dark, he would be free to roam the city streets again. He kept reminding himself, 'Only a couple more hours.'

"Mikey!" He heard a familiar voice ring. "Stay out of my lab!" He watched the hallway where the booming voice came from, confused as to what was happening. Suddenly, an orange clad turtle ran from the hallway that led to the lab and found refuge behind the beanbag chair Raphael was currently sitting in. He turned his head slightly to look at his brother, who was trying his hardest to make himself as small as possible behind Raphael. He then looked up and saw Donnie march his way out of the hallway, wearing goggles on his forehead.

"I don't know how many times I need to tell you to not mess with my stuff!" Donnie said, his words aimed at the turtle hiding behind Raphael.

"Well this is weird," Raphael said to himself, amused at both of the brothers' behaviors. "Usually I'm the one chewing Mikey out."

"I like it better when you get mad," Mikey said quietly so only Raphael could hear him. "When Donnie gets mad he starts using big words."

"What, are you scared of vocabulary now, Mikey," Raphael teased.

"No!" Mikey said, feeling somewhat offended. Before anything else could be said, another voice made itself present in the room.

"Okay, everyone," Leonardo said. Raphael figured he must have heard the yelling from where he was in the dojo. "Why don't we all just calm down…" he suggested.

"Not until Mikey agrees to stop touching stuff in my lab," Donnie said, pointing at his younger brother. Mikey, who seemed to have gotten his boost of confidence, stood up from his crouched position, putting both hands on his hips defiantly.

"For your information, Geek-brain, I didn't touch anything," he said, almost offended. Donnie gave him a look, clearly not believing him.

"Fine, I touched one thing but that was it!"

"Damn it, Mikey!" Donnie threw his hands up, reaching his limit with the younger turtle. "I've told you countless times not to step foot near that lab but you never listen," he said, making his way closer to Mikey. "Not only do you blatantly ignore me, but you go so far as to possibly damage precious tools and equipment, the only ones I have! I don't know how to get it through your thick skull to mind your own business!" He jammed his finger into the plastron of his younger brother.

Leonardo quickly stepped between the two brothers, separating them. "Okay that's enough," he said authoritatively.

"Awe, Leo. It was just gettin' good," Raphael pouted, but unsurprisingly got no response from either three.

"Donnie, go back to the lab and cool off," Leonardo said, pointing at the hallway. Donnie opened his mouth, no doubt about to defend himself, but was cut off. "Now, Donnie," Leo said in a much more loud, stern voice. Donnie then glared at Mikey one last time before walking away, muttering angrily to himself.

"You," also said turning to Mikey looking a bit more angry. "Stay put. I don't want you anywhere near Donnie or the lab, got it?"

"No fair," Mikey said crossing his arms, then finally walked toward an empty beanbag chair and plopping himself down.

"What a weird day," Raphael said, shaking his head. "First Mikey hides behind me, then Donnie gets sent to cool off. We must be in an alternate universe," he joked.

"You've been good, Raph," Leo said. "Don't do anything to ruin that."

"Well, there go my plans for today," Raphael said calmly.

"Our only plans for today are to go out and bash some heads," Leonardo said, walking a bit closer to Raphael.

"What kind of heads are we talkin' about," Raphael said somewhat excitedly.

"Krang, Foot, Purple Dragons, whichever we see," Leonardo said with a shrug.

"So you're tellin' me our mission is to just go out and wing it?" Raphael asked, to which Leonardo only shrugged again. "Huh, no one immediately after us," Raphael thought. "That's a little… suspicious." He finished.

"Tell me about it," Leonardo said, before exiting to room and entering the dojo. Raphael looked over at Mikey, who was still sitting in his beanbag, pouting. Although he would never admit it, Raphael liked Mikey's endless enthusiasm; in his mind, it was a bit refreshing. To see Mikey hurt was a rarity, and none of the brothers liked to see Mikey anything other than happy. Watching him now, it was clear that Mikey was having one of his episodes, and Raphael was not about to let that happen. He got up from his own seat and walked over to Mikey, reaching his hand out to him. Mikey looked up from his lap and stared at Raphael's hand in confusion.

"Come on, Moron." Raphael encouraged. "I'm sure there's one of those lame cartoons on that we could watch."

Mikey smiled at Raphael before taking his hand and lifting himself up. "They're not lame. They're just too complex for a simple turtle like you to understand," Mikey said, placing a hand on his chest dramatically.

"Uh huh, sure. Keep walking, Idiot," Raphael said, pushing his brother forward toward the TV. 'Only a few more hours,' Raphael thought.


	3. Chapter Three: Adventure

"Oh, Emerson! Where have you been? The whole family's missed you," the older woman in front of the girl said.

"Well, sorry to keep all of you waiting, Mrs. P," Emerson shrugged, laughing a bit. "Is Lucy here?" The older woman opened the door a bit wider so Emerson could walk through.

"Of course, up in her room," she said, putting a hand on her back to guide her to her daughter's room.

Lucy's mother had always been a kind, small lady. She was kind of the opposite of most of the people Emerson met in New York. She was warm, accepting, accommodating, all around nice. If Emerson had a choice, she would have chosen Mrs. P as her mother.

The door to Lucy's room was open and Emerson saw Lucy sitting on the edge of her unmade bed, a laptop sitting on her legs while she typed away. Lucy's room was slightly bigger than Emerson's, filled to the brim with all different kinds of room decor. Lucy was the kind of person who didn't buy furniture or decorations based on a theme; if she liked something or thought something was cute, she got it. This, of course, made Lucy's room look a look more disorganized than it really was. It was the price Lucy paid.

"Lucy," her mother said sweetly. The short-haired brunette looked up from the screen and smile when she saw her friend.

Lucy was a lot like her room, in a way. On the outside, you saw a girl who looked a bit strange, her hair never done, her outfit thrown on without a care, her face always looking tired. However, getting to know Lucy, you find out that she, in fact, did have her life together. She was a great student, her family was awesome, she had a job she was great at, and she always did her laundry. Emerson figured that that was probably why Lucy and she were friends; like the saying goes, opposites attract.

"Hey, Em," Lucy said, patting the open space next to her on the bed.

"Wassup?" Emerson said lazily, moving to the spot which Lucy offered to her.

"Well, I'll leave you girls to it," Lucy's mother smiled. "Just give us a holler if you need anything!" She quietly shut the door.

"Thanks, Mrs. P!" Emerson said loudly before the door was all the way shut. "Your mom is so cute," She said to Lucy.

"I think you say that every time you come here," Lucy laughed, her focus returning to the screen in front of her. Emerson looked over to see what exactly she was working on. She saw an almost blank document, the only words on it being the title. "Women's Lives from the 1920s to 1950s: Regress or Success?"

"That title sucks," Emerson said bluntly. "And you're actually working on that essay?" She asked in disbelief.

"It doesn't suck, it rhymes," Lucy said, keeping her eyes on the laptop. "And you were the one who said you wanted to work on the history essay," she pointed out.

"I didn't mean it literally," Emerson said, laying down on the bed and staring up at the textured ceiling. Since when did saying, "I'll come over later to work on the essay" actually mean that you were going to work on an essay? Emerson didn't understand the world.

"Then what did you want to do?" Lucy asked, not too interested.

Emerson thought for a minute. She really didn't have a clue as to what to do. To be honest, she was never a big planner "Let's get tattoos," Emerson said casually after moments of thinking, still staring at the ceiling.

"We're seventeen," Lucy stated, barely phased by Emerson's suggestion.

"Well I didn't say they had to be legal," Emerson said. She heard an exhausted sigh and laughed a bit; she really knew how to push her friend's buttons.

"I'm joking," Emerson said, even though by now it was obvious. She sat up from her laying position and thought for a bit.

"Let's just go explore," she blurted out after a moment. It was Lucy's turn to laugh.

"Again, we're seventeen," she said, shutting her laptop and putting it beside her on the bed. "Not five."

"So, doesn't mean we can't go explore the Concrete Jungle," Emerson said, standing up and in front of Lucy.

"You may be the weirdest teenager I've ever met," Lucy said, shaking her head.

"Ah ah ah, weirdest teenager you've met _so far_ ," Emerson corrected. Lucy sighed, again, and opened her mouth to say something but was cut off.

"Look," Emerson reasoned. "I know going out and walking around without a destination isn't exactly the coolest thing we can do, but come on Lucy," Emerson pleaded. "I just need to get out. Please, for my sanity's sake. I need to look around. I need some space, some fresh air, a little taste of freedom." She looked at Lucy with begging eyes. "Please?"

Lucy stared at her, watching her like a hawk as if deciding whether or not Emerson was telling the truth. After what felt like ages, Lucy rolled her eyes before collecting her phone off a table next to her bed.

"Fine, can we go now?" Lucy asked, relenting into Emerson's wishes. Emerson internally cheered, reminding herself to thank Lucy when she could. However, she was distracted when she saw Lucy make her way to the door.

"Uh, shouldn't we tell your mom?" Emerson questioned watching Lucy open her door.

"Oh yeah," Lucy said quietly. She turned her head toward the hallway and continued walking. "Mom, me and Em are going out," she yelled quite loudly. ' _How can such a tiny person make such a loud sound,'_ Emerson wondered as she followed.

"Okay, be safe!" Emerson faintly hear Lucy's mother reply back. The two girls walked down the hall toward the front door.

"We're always safe," Emerson said, only loud enough so Lucy could hear. Lucy had been opening the door, but when she heard Emerson, she turned around and gave her a look, silently asking her, "Really?"

"Okay, fine. One of us is always safe," Emerson said, defeated. Lucy silently laughed before walking out of the door. Emerson followed her and closed the door behind her. They walked together until the found their way out of the apartment complex. There, Emerson gave Lucy a smirk. Before Lucy could question the look. Emerson broke into a sprint, running farther and farther away from her friend.

"Emerson, wait!" Lucy yelled, but Emerson could barely hear her. All she knew was that New York night life was full of endless adventures, and she would have been insane to deny herself a piece of it.


	4. Chapter Four: Spying

Four brothers sat on top of a building, each in their own world. They had been on patrol for hours now, and despite how nice it felt to get out of the lair, they all could agree that sitting around doing nothing like they were now wasn't any better.

Raphael sat toward the center of the rooftop, arms crossed and deeply focused. He always prided himself at being the best fighter in the group, Leo of course being a close second. However, there were some aspects of being a ninja that even he could admit he needed work on. One of those aspects being meditating.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy meditating, it was the fact that, at least for him, it was extremely hard to get "in the zone", to breath deeply as he cleared his mind. His mind was always swimming with thoughts. Sensei always reminded him to practice, to make time for the things he needed improvement on. So, in times like these where there was nothing else to do, Raphael practiced his meditation.

'In….out…' he repeated to himself. The breathing part was easier. The hardest part was clearing his mind, to allow himself to think of nothing at all.

'Relax… in…. out… empty my mind," he thought. Suddenly, his attention was drawn to what felt like a warm breath of air on the back of his neck. Tempted to turn back, he reminded himself of his task.

'Clear mind, Raphael. Don't let the outside world distract you,' he thought, trying to block out as much as he could. All he could see was darkness; the inky black mass that his eyes used to shield out the rest of the world. He focused on how light he felt, how not focusing on anything in particular made him feel like literal weight had been lifted off of him.

He felt peace, which was a rarity for him. He was cautious, always worried, always angry. He didn't have time to slow down and appreciate what it felt like to be relaxed. He tried to get his fill, because he knew that this moment of butter bliss wouldn't last.

His moment of peaceful tranquility was interrupted faster than he thought it would have been when he felt a strong poke on the back of his neck. Without thinking, his arm shot up in reflex to grab at the intruder. He opened his eyes and used his abundance of strength the pull the hand from behind him over his head and forward.

Mikey hit the roof hard in his back, letting out a not so silent "oomph" as he landed. Raphael watched Mikey intensely as he pulled his arm from Raphael's grasp and struggled to get up.

"What's your problem, bro?" Mikey asked loudly, finally managing to stand up after catching his breath.

"My problem is you," Raphael said, pointing at his little brother. "I can't sit for five minutes without you tryin' to set me off," he said, trying to keep his volume low.

"It's not my fault," Mikey whined. "I'm bored up here," he said, kicking and imaginary rock from the roof. Raphael silently growled, knowing well Mikey somewhat had a point.

He walked over to the other side of the roof where Leo had been crouched for the past hour. Raphael rolled his eyes at the back of his brother's head.

"Alright, Fearless," he said, crossing his arms. "We've been out here almost all night and nothin's happenin'. It's time to go," he said, noticing no indication from his brother that he was even listening.

"I agree," Raphael turned toward Donnie, who was laying some of his weight of his staff, looking exhausted. "It's a slow day, I'm sure the police can handle everything," Donnie suggested.

"You'd rather have somebody else come in and do your job?" Leo suddenly asked, not looking back.

"Well, technically it's their job anyways..." Donnie corrected, fading off at the end.

"Leo," Mikey popped in. "Its sooo boring up here," he whined. "Let's just go back home."

Leo quickly stood up from his crouching positions, standing straight to face all of his brothers.

"Look, if you guys want to go home then fine, be my guests." He pointed to himself, "But I'm staying here and finishing the patrol, like we are all supposed to do," he said before giving each of them a disappointed look. Donnie and Mikey looked down at the rooftop guilty, knowing fully well that their brother was right and feeling a bit ashamed for trying to get out of their responsibilities.

Raphael instead glared back at his leader. Sure, he knew Leo had a point, but so did Raphael and the rest. And he didn't deserve to be scolded like a child for having a different opinion than his brother. He wanted to bring it up, wanted to point out how unfair he was being, but he knew better than to stir the pot. As good as he was at getting into fights, it didn't mean he enjoyed being the hothead of the group.

The four brothers returned back to their positions, all except for Raphael, who leaned back against a giant satellite dish. He was getting exhausted; between the hours and hours of sitting and waiting and the festering anger boiling in him, he knew it wouldn't be long before he blew up.

They all went back to their previous activities, Mikey looking around for something to entertain him, Donnie leaning against his staff trying not to fall asleep, and Leo watching the streets below him. Raphael almost scoffed at Leonardo, not in the mood to be around his brother at the moment.

"Guys," Mikey suddenly called out. "I have a joke for you." The three brothers looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. Mikey peered over the building and smirked.

"What do three Purple Dragons and a guy with a sweater vest have in common?" He asked smugly.

"I don't know Mikey, what do they have in common," Raphael said with fake enthusiasm.

"I don't know, why don't you come tell me," he said, gesturing them over to where he was at the edge of the roof. The three quickly obeyed and looked over the edge.

Sure enough, they saw three tall Purple Dragons, each holding a small pocket knife. One of them, whom Raphael knew was their leader, was pressing his knife against the throat of a younger looking man, who, as Mikey pointed out, was indeed wearing a sweater vest. He looked terrified, but Raphael could also see the hints of anger and hatred he had as he spat out replies.

"Finally," Raphael said. "It's ass-whooping time," he said happily, cracking his knuckles.

"Now wait a minute, Raphael," Leo spoke softly. "We don't know the whole situation-"

"Oh hell no, Fearless," Raphael interrupted. "We've been out here for hours already and this may be the only action we get all night. There's no way you are makin' me wait any longer than I need to," Raphael said sternly. The two brothers stared at each other, Leo glaring while sorting out his thoughts, and Raphael to try emphasize that he wasn't budging.

After a couple moments, Leo sighed and looked down at the four men. Things had escalated quickly, as Leo saw from all the way up on the rooftop blood staining the man's neck.

"Alright, fine," Leo relented, ignoring the silent cheers from his brothers.

* * *

"Emerson," Lucy whispered quietly. "I'm cold, let's go back now," she pleaded, wrapping her arms around herself trying to keep in the heat.

Emerson only ignored what Lucy was saying as she walked down the alleyway. They had been out for awhile, longer than Emerson had planned (not that she was complaining). So far, they had only talked to a few strangers, all of them being homeless and somewhat insane, which made everything even better, at least in Emerson's eyes.

"Just a bit longer," Emerson said, hooking her thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans. She loved it out here, the potential for danger wasn't something Emerson really concerned herself with.

"It's getting late," Lucy complained, speeding up a bit to catch up with Emerson. "It's also freezing," she said. Before she could continue, Emerson started peeling off her jacket, leaving her with only her jeans and a black tank top. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you my hoodie," Emerson said bluntly, finally freeing herself from the piece of clothing. "Before you start; no, I'm not cold. I'll be fine, just take the damn thing." It didn't take long before Lucy reached for the hoodie and slipped on, silently thanking Emerson for her gift of warmth. Both were silent as they walked, neither knowing what to say.

"So," Lucy said after the moments of silence passed. "How's life been going?" She asked casually. Emerson couldn't help but smirk, at least Lucy was trying.

"Same old, I guess." She shrugged. "Kevin still thinks he's my favorite teacher," She joked, getting a laugh out of Lucy. "Bug is still so tiny, my dad still deals with delinquent children, my mom still thinks I'm a murderer."

"She doesn't think that," Lucy said sternly, sounding almost angry. Emerson knew that bringing up her mother's behavior wasn't exactly Lucy's favorite topic.

"She could have fooled me," Emerson rolled her eyes. No one could deny the way her mother treated her and she knew it.

"You have to put things into perspective," Lucy said. "The past year has got to have been.." She paused, looked for the right word. "... Hard for your mom," She finally finished.

At those words, Emerson abruptly stopped walking and turned to fully face Lucy. Anger etched on her face as she spat out, "And it hasn't been for me?" Lucy instantly regretted her words, desperately trying to take them back.

"No, Em. That's not what I meant. I-"

"I know what you meant," Emerson cut her off, her face and voice a bit more calm. Although she looked better than before, inside, Emerson was outraged. She wanted to punch something, Lucy, a wall, herself, anything. She looked up at the sky, trying to keep the tears that were building up to stop. As she did this she noticed how dark the sky was and for the first time realized just how late it was.

"I'm going home, my house isn't far from here," Emerson said starting to walk again. Lucy gestured to Emerson's hoodie she was wearing, about to speak, but she didn't get the chance to before Emerson turned the corner to another alleyway.

Emerson was fuming, absolutely fuming. 'She has absolutely no idea what my life is like,' Emerson thought. She couldn't possibly know what Emerson had been through. She had a perfect life with a perfect mom and a perfect dad in a perfect apartment with her perfect grades and her perfect job and perfect friends. Emerson's life was far from perfect. Her mother refused to acknowledge her unless she was forced, and the worst part was she didn't even know why. She had no clue what made her made turn against her. School sucked becuase Emerson had come to the realization that her grades wouldn't get her accepted anywhere. She had such few things in life she genuinely liked or was proud of, and she didn't need Lucy reminding her of that.

She was in the middle of the alley, and despite her efforts, Emerson's back hit the cold wall behind her and she sobbed. There was no sound, but endless tears streamed down from her eyes, and for the first time in a while, she didn't try to stop them anymore. Her back slid down the wall as she sat down, letting all of the emotions she kept bottled up out. She hugged her knees tight to her, trying to find some comfort.

She missed him. She missed him everyday. Little things she saw would remind her of him. She tried to keep it to herself, to not bother her friends or family with her feelings, but it was getting harder each day to ignore how she felt. She knew if he were there with her, he would have wrapped an arm around her shoulder, resting his cheek on the top of her head. He would have said something funny, called Lucy some obscure name or make some kind of crude joke. Emerson would have swatted his arm, but she would have smiled, would have laughed at his joke. He would let her cry, wouldn't try to stop her. She would cry ever last tear she had, and he would rub her arm as she did. And then, when she was done, he would kiss the top of her head so softly she barely would have felt it. But he wasn't here, he wouldn't ever get to comfort her again. She would never hear any of his jokes, never get to feel cared for the way he cared for her ever again.

The previous waterfall of tears had been dried, she now only stared blankly at the wall ahead of her. As good as it felt to sit somewhere she was certain that no one she knew would find her, where she could let every single emotion out, she was aware that she had to get home. She had a family still, she still had responsibilities, and she couldn't let a little pain stop her from living her life.

As she sat up, she started to hear voices coming from the other end of the alley. Looking over, she vaguely saw three, no, four men all crowded together. Going against her better judgment, she walked towards the middle of the alley, by a large dumpster. There, she crouched so only the top of her head was visible. She could now see and hear the men clearly.

Three men, all wearing leather and black with scars poking out everywhere, we're surrounding a small, young man. The tallest of the three stepped forward, making the young man press himself into the wall behind him.

"Look, I get it," the tall man said with and evil smile. He started twirling what looked like a knife between his hands. "You wanna protect your friend. That's admirable," he nodded. "But is protecting Tyler really worth losing your life?" He asked, pressing the tip of the blade into the side of the young man. She heard him gasp, and she saw how hard he was trying to keep the scream contained in his throat.

"Just tell us where Ty is," the leader said, pulling the knife away. "And you'll walk out of here without so much as a scratch on you."

"Look," the young man suddenly burst out. "I told you, I have no idea where he is," he said, his voice smooth but he body starting to shake. "We were roommates for only a couple of months and then he moved out," he, reasoning his hands as if to prove his innocence. "We were never friends, I don't know where he is," he finished.

The tall man stared at him with eyes that made Emerson want to throw up. He looked to the man on his right, then the man on his left, before looking back at the young man.

"Well, that's a shame," the tall man said, gesturing his head forward. His two henchmen were on the young man in an instant, each pulling one of his arms behind his back in what looked like a death grip. Emerson could see the panic on the young man's face as he pleaded for the men to let him go. When the leader pulled out his knife, all she could do was stare, not wanting to watch but unable to look away.

Before any other moves could be made, Emerson heard the air being sliced. Then, shadows dropped down from the sky, almost out of nowhere. There were four, each ranging in different heights. However, she couldn't get over how strange looking the figures were, the shadows looked somewhat not human. Emerson couldn't help but stare at the figures in complete confusion.

"Well," a deep voice emerged. "You'd think after pounding you so many times you'd learn a lesson," a figure she assumed was responsible for the voice stepped closer to the three evil men. Although the two leather clad henchman looked a bit apprehensive, the leader's smirk never left his face.

"Well, if it isn't our green friends," the leader said, crossing his arms in amusement. 'Green?' Emerson thought.

"Just let go of the law student and we'll be good, Bro," one of the smaller figures said. The tallest one turned toward him.

"Law student, Mikey?" it asked, unamused. 'Mikey… the small one's Mikey.'

"I don't know, man. People with sweater vests are always law students on TV," Mikey said, pointing at the young man, whose face no longer showed panic, but shock.

"You two," a new voice appeared. It was stern, but not intimidating like the first she had heard. "Enough. Drew, let go of the kid. You know this isn't going to end well for you."

"Oh, are we on a first name basis now, freaks?" The leader asked. 'Green… freaks… giant shadows,' Emerson thought, trying to piece out the puzzle that was in front of her. Before she could think further, Drew spoke to his other men. "Boys, let him go."

The men looked at each other, confused at the order, but after an instistant look from Drew they each reluctantly let go of the young man. Without a moment's hesitation, the young man leapt to his feet and ran right past Emerson, too busy fleeing to even bother seeing her.

"Wow," the one named Mikey spoke up. "To be honest I thought it was gonna take a lot more than that to persuade you."

"You saw that kid," Drew replied. "You really think he has friends that would hang around Purple Dragons?"

'Purple Dragons?' Emerson thought. She racked her brain, trying to think of where she had heard that name before.

"So why threaten him if he has no use?" The tallest shadow asked. Something had appeared in his hands now as Emerson glanced at him again. From her vantage point, it looked like a giant stick.

"Who said he had no use?" Drew asked figuratively. After a slight pause he continued. "Three vicious gang members against one kid? Seems a little.. unjust some would say," Drew said, his hands finding the knife from earlier again. "And us Purple Dragons have started to notice, whenever something rather unjust happens," he gestured with his knife to the four shadows, "you four seem to correct it."

"So you planned on us coming here?" One of the shadows asked, reaching behind his back with both hands to grab two swords that were strapped to his.. 'backpack?'

"Basically. You've been putting a dent in everyone's plans recently," Drew smiled evilly again. "Now it's time to put a dent in you."

"Pfft," Mikey snorted, now swinging around nunchucks from both hands. "Yeah?" he asked defiantly. "You and what army?"

As soon as he said the words, people dressed in black from head to toe jumped down from the top of the roofs, surrounding the three Purple Dragons and the four shadows. Emerson barely held in the gasp, as the black dressed strangers come dangerously close to the other side of the dumpster where she was hiding.

"You had to ask, Mikey?" The deep voice she had heard from early on yelled. All too suddenly, a fight ensued. However, instead of a regular fist fight like the ones she had witnessed at her school or on the New York streets, the black strangers moved gracefully, flipping and jumping in the air, landing as if they weighed nothing. Their arms sliced the air with precession, and their technique, she observed, looked flawless. 'Kinda looks like Kung Fu,' Emerson thought. Then, within the mass of black she saw flashes of green, she could hear the clanging of metal on metal, the grunts and growls of many different people, and she saw bodies flying left and right. Almost as quickly as it had started, the fight was over. Blinking, trying to get her eyes adjusted after all of the sudden movements, she saw the shadows were no longer black silhouettes anymore. However, what she saw still confused her.

Like she had seen in the fight, green attacked her vision. Each one of the four figures a different shade of green. They were massive, both in height and in build. All of their faces were either blocked or were facing the other direction, but she did notice that each head had a different color cloth attached to it. Looking down, it was then she noticed the shells. Each figure had one, a shell proportionate to their bodies attached to their backs. On it, were straps and other kinds of gear, where she figured they kept the weapons they used in the fight. It then dawned on her; she was looking at four giant, humanoid, talking turtles. She didn't dare make any noise, afraid of what might happen to her if she caught their attention. She wasn't left to gawk at the sight for too long before she saw the one in red walk over to Drew, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pointing what looked like a dagger on the dip in his throat.

"Crawl back to whatever hole you came from, and don't mess with us ever again. Got it?" He asked, not bothering to wait for and answer before unceremoniously tossing him aside. The two men from before helped bring him up and ran to the other side of the alley. The black strangers carried each other up to the rooftops and dispersed, leaving only the giant turtles. After a couple of moments, another one spoke.

"Awe, dudes! That was epic!" It spoke in a voice that was familiar to Emerson. 'Orange… The orange one must be Mikey,' she thought.

"I'd say based on how quickly we were able to get rid of them," the purple one spoke, pointing a finger up, "that it was probably our best performance yet." Emerson noticed his hands, and was shocked to see only three fingers. Her hand, which was resting on the lid of the dumpster, slipped down, causing a quiet bang on the side. Mikey, hearing the noise, looked up and over toward her direction. Still in shock, Emerson found that she couldn't move, even though she could hear her brain screaming at her to run.

She locked eyes with the smallest turtle, his eyes widening in surprise and hers in fear. "Uh, guys," Mikey said quietly, yet still loud enough to be heard by Emerson. He pointed at her, and still her body refused to move. She could feel the panic rise higher and higher as if it were lodged in her throat as she saw each one of them turn to look at her. They all stared at her for quick moments, no one daring to so much as breath. The red one was the first to move, grabbing the dagger on his back and holding it tightly. Even if her body was responding, she realized she wouldn't have had time to run away from when she saw him jump high towards her. She backed up against the alley wall in fear, yet looked up in slight curiosity. He was towering over her, holding the thin dagger threateningly close to her while staring at her face intently. She was sure he said something to her, but the blood that rushed to her head prevented her from hearing it. Despite trying to overcome her fear, she could feel her body begin to shut down. One minute, she was face to face with a giant turtle who looked at her like he wanted her dead. The next, everything was black.


	5. Chapter Five: Transportation

He had asked her who she was. A simple and quite easy question, in his opinion. However, she didn't answer, she only stated up at him with chocolate eyes. And then, he watched the dark eyes roll to the back of her head, and with it, her entire body went limp. Her head fell to the side, resting on the side of the dumpster. The muscles in her arms and legs relaxed, and her breathing became somewhat regular instead of the nervous pants from before. Raphael sighed, putting his sai away. It wasn't the reaction he initially expected, but he wasn't at all surprised.

Mikey appeared at his side, trying to get a glimpse of the girl. Finally nudging his way between the dumpster and his brother, he looked at the stranger, who leaned in what looked like an uncomfortable position on the dumpster. Suddenly, he straightened and rushed to her side. "You killed her! What the heck, dude!" Mikey yelled, kneeling at the girl's side, but not touching her.

"I didn't kill her, numbskull. She fainted," Raphael said, crossing his arms. He wondered if maybe there would be a day where people didn't scream or pass out when they saw him or his brothers.

"Let me check her, Mikey," Donnie came towards Mikey, shooing him away. After taking his place, Donnie took two fingers and placed them on her neck. "Her pulse is good," he murmured to no one in particular.

"Was she part of the fight?" Leo asked, coming to stand next to Raphael. Donnie shook his head.

"Improbable. I don't see any tattoos to indicate that she's a Dragon and she's not really dressed properly if she's part of the Foot," he said, gesturing to the outfit.

"Does she have anything on her?" Leo asked. Donnie looked her up and down, noticing a square bulge in her front pocket. Carefully, he bent down to grab it.

"Looks like she has a phone," he said. After sliding it from her pocket, he clicked the home button, only to see a low battery notification pop up. "And it's dead," he said blatantly.

"We just can't leave her here," Mikey whinnied, looking down at the girl. Raphael followed suit. When she wasn't panicking, he could actually make out the features of her face. She was small, probably on the petite side, but not skinny. She had long, black looking hair that covered part of her face. She had full, chapped lips, and the cold from the night made her cheeks and button nose pink. If he looked close enough, he would see the tiny freckles that patterned over her nose and cheeks as well.

"We won't leave her," Leo spoke up. "She's seen us, we need to make sure she stays silent."

"Well we can't stay up here," Donnie said, getting up from his kneeling position. "It's too cold and we don't have anything on us to cover her up. Plus, we don't know where the Foot or those Purple Dragons went," he pointed out.

"So what are you suggestin'?" Raphael asked

"We bring her down to the sewers," Donnie shrugged. "Not down to the lair, but underground. It's safer and a bit warmer down there." Everyone was silent for a bit, contemplating what their brother had said.

"I vote yes!" Mikey yelled but was quickly silenced by Raphael, who swatted the back of his head.

"She could be dangerous, bringing her close to our home isn't the smartest idea," Leo said quietly, thinking out loud. Raphael snorted, the idea amusing him.

"Dangerous? Look at her," Raphael gestures toward the limp girl. All four turned to look at her, watching her steady breathing.

"He's gotta point," Mikey said, trying to persuade his older brother.

"If we're taking her anywhere, we have to do it now before she wakes up," Donnie said. Leo still looked at the girl, contemplating in his head. After a moment of thought, he loosely nodded his head.

"Fine, we'll take her to the sewers," he said. At his words, Mikey shot up with excitedly and rushed toward the small girl, ready to pick her up. "Mikey," Leo said sternly, stopping his younger brother in his tracks. He turned to look at the brother next to him and continued. "Raphael gets to carry her back," he said smugly.

"What?" Raphael asked, angry. "Why do I have to carry her?" He asked. Mikey walked away from the girl, looking down at the ground and shuffled toward the group.

"You're the one the made her pass out," Leo said. "So you're the one who gets to bring her down."

"Let Mikey take her," Raphael tried to reason.

"Yeah, let Mikey take her," Mikey chummed in at the sound of his name. The three of his brother looked at him, a bit bewildered. "What? She's hot," he shrugged. All three collectively rolled their eyes.

"Raph, just take the girl," Leo said. Before Raphael got the chance to argue, Leo spoke again. "Let's get moving," he said, gesturing for everyone to follow him.

Raphael watched his three brothers make their way out of the alley, staying in the shadows. He sighed in frustration but knew there was no point in trying to argue anymore. Turning toward the limp body, he walked over and bent down. He scooped up the tiny girl, trying to be as gentle as possible as to not wake her up. He thought of carrying her over his shoulder, but he knew his brothers would chew him out if he did, so instead, he carried her against his chest in bridal style. He was pleased when he stood and found she didn't weigh much at all, or at least she didn't weigh enough to inconvenience him. Looking toward the end of the alley, he saw his brothers weren't that far ahead of him. Swiftly, he made his way to the end of the alley, looking in each direction to make sure it was clear before joining his brothers.

All was silent as the four brothers ran gracefully to the location they all knew. The girl, Raphael thought, hadn't moved at all during the process, which he thought wasn't a good sign. The four met at the end of a building, Leo looking out beyond the wall and waiting for everything to clear up before he could give the signal to continue. As he waited for his brother, he felt the slightest movement on his chest. He looked down to where the movement was and saw the girl's once lifeless face scrunched up in discomfort, her thick eyebrows furrowed together and her lips pouting. Suddenly, she let out a quiet whine, pulling her arms closer to her body and turning her cheek closer to Raphael's chest. ' _Oh, yes,'_ Raphael thought sarcastically. ' _Cuddle up next to the reptile with a hard shell for warmth. That'll work.'_

"Hey, guys," Raphael said, alerting his brothers. "She's wakin' up. We need to go _now_." While Mikey continued to watch the girl squirm in his brother's arms, both Leo and Donnie looked around them for quicker access underground. After only a couple of seconds, Donnie spoke quietly, trying to not wake up their guest.

"Over there," Donnie said, pointing to the alleyway across from them, where all four could see a manhole cover.

"Perfect," Leo muttered. "Let's go," he said, motioning his head toward the cover. All four quickly ran toward the alley, careful not to be seen. Leo got to the manhole first, lifting the heavy piece of metal up like it weighed nothing and holding it open for his brothers. Donnie jumped down first, as silent as possible. Mikey was next, however, Leo could faintly hear him screaming in excitement as he jumped down. Raphael walked up to the hole, looking down at it suspiciously.

"How am supposed to do this, Fearless?" Raphael asked, a bit of resentment in his voice. Leo lightly shook his head.

"As long as you hold her tightly and you land on both feet you'll be fine," he said. "Go," he added pointing a finger down to the ground. Raphael mumbled something under his breath before looking down skeptically again. Leo sighed, reaching his arm out limply.

"Would you rather me do it?" Leo asked, stepping forward a bit to receive the limp girl.

"No," Raphael said sternly, unintentionally tightening his arm so that the tiny girl pressed further on his chest. Leo lifted his eye ridges, surprised at his brother's sudden reaction. Realizing his action, Raphael loosened his grip on the girl, looking embarrassed. "I can do it myself, I'm not a baby," he said quietly. Leo eyed him for a couple more moments, knowing his brother's outburst wasn't only caused by his usual anger, but not having enough energy to fight with him. He rolled his eyes before speaking again.

"Okay, whatever. Just hurry up, please," he said, trying to get his brother to move. Raphael nodded sharply and looked down again at the hole in the ground. Even when he went down alone, the jump was usually a tight squeeze. Now, he had to figure out how to hold the unconscious girl while still making it down safely. He would have to carry her in a way the made sure neither of them hit any part of the sewer while they went down. After a moment of thought, Raphael adjusted his hold on the girl, moving her so that her head was on his shoulder rather than his chest. The movement made the girl squirm a bit more, seeking any warmth she could find. Raphael could feel the girl's cold head dig itself as far as it could go into his neck, silently releasing tiny puffs of air. He wanted to pull away, but he knew if he did it would risk her waking up from being uncomfortably cold. However, before he could adjust his hands, he felt her entire body move, turning in and towards his own. Her arms, which had previously been almost stationary, moved limply around his neck while her head snuggled even deeper into his neck. Her legs tried in vain to wrap around him, but his shell blocked her from fully achieving this. Her loose grip on his neck and legs failing to find purchase on his back made her unstable, and Raphael could feel her start to slip off. His reflexes worked faster than his brain and his hands shot from her back to her bottom to keep her from falling. Sensing that she was finally supported, the girl stopped moving, content with the warmth she had now and let out a small sigh.

Raphael was still trying to process what had happened in such a small amount of time. He blinked once, then twice. Her weight had become a bit easier to carry in this position and was overall more comfortable for him to move around. He heard a noise to his side, and when he looked over he saw Leo barely holding in the laughs that shook his whole body. Raphael gave him a death glare before he adjusted his hold on the girl slightly, making sure he had her securely. After what seemed like hours, Raphael finally jumped in with the girl in her arms.

He landed soon after jumping without any difficulty. He was pleased when he also noticed he had made it down without disturbing the girl in his arms. He moved a bit to the side, knowing that his brother probably jumped not long after he did. He joined Mikey and Donnie at the side of the sewer.

"Took you long enough," Donnie muttered, his face a bit twisted in confusion at the girl quite literally attached to him. Mikey, however, has his jaw-dropping to the floor, his eyes wide with disappointment.

"What?!" He exclaimed, gesturing to the girl in Raphael's arms. "No fair! That could have been me!" Raphael simply rolled his eyes, too tired from the night's events to comment at his brother's behavior.

"Set her down over there," Leo appeared out of nowhere, gesturing to a vacant spot down the sewer. "It's dry, and close to the manhole so we can get out of here." All four brothers walked in the direction, silent. When they reached the dry patch, Raphael tried as hard as he could to pry the girl off his chest without disturbing her. He finally was able to detach her, however, everyone could hear her quiet whines from being separated. He set her down gently, letting her body rest on the wall behind her. She continued to whine from the cold, the noise getting louder than before. Her head started moving soon after being detached, and the four brothers could tell she was waking up.

"Back up," Donnie blurry quietly, pushing Mikey with him as he walked a few steps back. "I doubt the first thing she wants to see when she wakes up in a sewer is four mutant reptiles," he added. The rest knew he was right, and backed up a few feet without argument.

Her wiggling continued, however, it was much less sporadic than before as her body started waking up again. Suddenly, her movement stopped, and her breaths became deeper. They could her eyelashes move the slightest, attempting to open her eyes. Finally, she slowly and sleepily opened them, calmly trying to figure out just exactly what was happening. Her tranquility did not last long, and after a few moments, her eyes shot wide in realization. Her eyes started moving, undoubtedly trying to figure out where she was. She moved her head to the side, where the four brothers stood in a group next to each other. She stared at them, her breathing becoming hitched and panicked just like before. However, this time instead of passing out, she opened her mouth to scream.


	6. Chapter Six: Introductions

Emerson remembered almost immediately. She remembered watching the four shadows defeat an entire army like it was nothing. She remembered how big they were. And most of all, she remembered that they were not human.

Regaining her sight, she looked around at the dark surroundings. Although she couldn't recognize where she was, she knew she probably underground (judging by the smell alone). She turned her head a bit, hoping to find some clue as to where she was. However, the only thing she saw now was four lumbering turtles, all staring at her intently, as if waiting for her to say something.

Panic rose through her entire body as she started asking herself a million questions. ' _Why are they here? Do they know where we are? Did they bring me here? Am I hallucinating?'_ She felt her breathing begin to go faster with each second, and almost on instinct, her mouth opened to scream.

Before any sound could be made, a hand-a three-fingered hand-blocked her mouth, trying it's best to keep all sounds inside. Her eyes followed the hand to an arm, green with freckles painted on the tops. She continued to follow until she met a face. She saw blue eyes through an orange mask, and she recognized him instantly.

"Please don't scream," he said quietly to her. As he talked, Emerson racked her brain trying to remember the name the other three had called him. "I promise we're not gonna hurt you, okay?" She watched his face as he spoke, and even though his face was unlike any she had ever seen, everything about it told her his words were genuine. Her better judgment told her not to trust any of them, no matter what they told her, however she found herself nodding in agreement with the turtle in front of her regardless.

"Okay," he smiled. "I'm gonna take my hand away now, promise you won't scream?" He gave her a questioning look. She nodded again, her desire to cry out passed by now. "Okay," he said again and cautiously, he lifted his hand from her mouth. Once her mouth was free, she took a few open-mouthed calming breaths, trying to ease herself. He told her they weren't going to hurt her. She trusted him. She kept telling herself that.

The orange turtle, satisfied that she hadn't screamed as she promised, started to back up to where he was before and joined the rest. Seeing him with the rest of his group brought back the memory of his name, and without thinking, her mouth started talking on its own.

"Mikey.." She said softly, still staring at him in slight panic and wonderment. At the sound of his name, his eyes grew wide and he looked around at the rest as if to ask if they all heard it as well. The other three looked just as confused as Mikey, who was relatively relieved that he wasn't the only one who heard.

"How do you know my name?" Mikey asked gently, trying not to scare her. Emerson gulped, realizing fully what she has said and slightly embarrassed.

"D-During the fight," she stated with a shaky voice. "I heard someone say it. I remembered your voice…" She trailed off, unable to think so much anymore. She suddenly felt very hot. Mikey looked around again in disbelief.

"Sweet," Mikey said, not bothering to be quiet. He elbowed the blue turtle to the side and raised the ridges above his eyes in a seductive manner. "She knows my name," he said to his brother, who only rolled his eyes and pushed him to the side.

"Do you know the rest of our names?" The turtle in blue asked her. She thought quickly, but no other names popped in her head as Miley's had.

"No," she shook her head, trying to swallow down the fear that still resided in her.

"Well, let us introduce ourselves," the blue turtle said. "I am Leonardo, I go by Leo," he said, placing a hand on his chest in a regal manner. He then pointed to Mikey at his side. "You already know Michelangelo, who we call Mikey," he said. Mikey gave Emerson a mall wave. Before he could continue, the tallest turtle picked up.

"I'm Donatello, but you can call me Donnie," he said with a polite smile, which quickly faded when he thumbed to the last turtle next to him. "And the red one is Raphael. He's the one who made you pass out," he said bluntly.

Raphael hit his brother lightly on the arm, trying to tell him to watch his words. His night was, in his own opinion, already a mess. He didn't want any of his brothers on his case at the moment.

Emerson nodded at the introductions, trying to remember each name, long and short version. She furrowed her brows together in confusion when she thought collectively about the names.

"Your names," she said. "They all seem super…" she paused, trying to find the right words. "Familiar."

"Well if you took a sixth-grade history class you probably heard our names thrown around a couple of times," Donnie said, trying to be humorous. Upon Emerson's confused glare, he explained. "We have the same name as famous Renaissance artists," he said. Looking back, Emerson could remember only a handful of things from her childhood, and things she learned from school were definitely not at the top of the list. However, she did remember a few specific names, and sure enough, they were the same names as the turtles in front of her.

"Now how about we get to know your name," Leonardo suggested, pulling her out of her childhood and back to reality.

' _Right, my name. That's usually how introductions work,"_ she thought. She hesitantly thought of lying and giving them a fake name. But then again, they had all been genuine to her. She sensed nothing from them that made her think they might have been lying, so why would she lie to them?

"Emerson," she said, her voice stronger and calmer than ever before. She saw the hidden confusion but wasn't surprised, almost everyone had the same reaction to her name.

"Oh, like the author?" Donatello burst out, almost as if he has solved a riddle. His brothers turned toward him for clarification. "You know, like Ralph Waldo Emerson, wrote _The American Scholar, Nature, Self-Reliance_?" He looked around at his brothers, looking to see if they knew any of what he was talking about, but they only stared at him cluelessly. He sighed in defeat, giving up his explanation. "Anyways, he's a famous writer," he left them with.

"Yeah," Emerson cut in. The four turned their attention to her. "My dad was a pretty big fan, so," she said, shrugging. She started to notice how muggy the air was around her. "Where are we?"

"The sewers," Donatello spoke again. "After Raph scared you out of consciousness," he said with disdain, "we couldn't just leave you in the alley. It's cold out, and you're not exactly dressed for cold weather," he said gesturing to her ensemble. "That and leaving an unconscious girl alone in an alley doesn't seem like the smartest idea," he shrugged. She guessed that this one, Donatello, was one to talk a lot.

"Thanks," she said softly. Her nerves had significantly reduced since she first came to her senses. She had seen these four… ' _men?'_... take down no less than an army of what looked like highly trained professionals. She knew that if they intended to hurt her, they could have done so at any moment.

"Just how much of the fight did you _actually_ see?" Leonardo asked, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. Emerson thought for a moment, trying to break through the wall of shock and confusion in her mind to remember what she had first seen.

"Um... I saw..." she tried remembering the exact words she had heard. "I saw the law student," she finally said, confidently. The brothers starred, confused at first, but then the youngest remembered as well.

"You heard that joke?!" he cried, seeming beyond excited. Emerson only nodded, somewhat shocked at Michelangelo's reaction. When he saw her confirmation, he started laughing. All eyes were glued to him as he bent over from laughter. "Man, this day just keeps getting better an-"

"Thank you, Mikey," Leonardo said loudly, as to be heard over his brother's laugh. It took a few more moments for the laughter to die. "Emerson, listen, this is very important," he said, leaning in a bit closer. "You cannot, under any circumstances, tell anyone about what you saw. Understand?" The severity in his voice confused Emerson, but she nodded anyway.

"I doubt anyone would believe me if I told them anyway," she said, trying her hardest to pour humor into her words. "This may be rude, but um… what are you guys?" She asked. "Because you look like turtles, but you talk like humans. And I saw you guys doing Kung Fu, which not many humans do," she said, trying to be polite but letting her curiosity get the better of her.

"Well, technically, we're mutants," Donatello explained. "We have both turtle and human DNA, hence the reason why we look like turtles but act human."

"And it wasn't Kung Fu," Leonardo interrupted. "It was Ninjutsu, not really that important but.." Leo shrugged.

"Uh-huh.." Emerson nodded, still not fully convinced she was dreaming. "And um, what are Purple Dragons?"

"A group you don't want to get involved with, so leave it be," Raphael finally spoke up, his voice so deep it almost scared Emerson. She nodded, not wanting to make him madder than he already was.

"As long as you don't mention us to anyone you'll be okay," Donatello spoke softly trying to ease the tension a bit.

"I won't tell, promise," Emerson said, absentmindedly crossing her heart. Leo nodded, trusting that she wouldn't tell anyone.

"Where do you live?" Leonardo asked, making Mikey laugh at how creepy it sounded. Leonardo rolled his eyes at his younger brother's antics. "We just want to make sure you get home safe."

"The apartment building on 13th," she said without worry. She has the feeling that they could find where she lived regardless of whether or not she gave them her address, so there was no point in trying to hide it.

"That's not far at all," Donatello said to Leonardo. Leonardo nodded and started walking toward to manhole cover.

"Raphael will carry you, it'll be faster that way," Leonardo started climbing up the ladder, and Emerson swore she heard what sounded like a growl from Raphael. Before she could even look his way, she felt herself being lifted from the ground. She frantically tried to find a place for her hands to cling and found the back of Raphael's neck. Her head rested on his shoulder trying to get her bearings back as she felt him start to walk.

"Hold on," Raphael said quietly, and she did as she was told, wrapping her arms and legs around him as tightly as possible as he started climbing up the ladder. Before long, she saw the darkness of the sewer fade and eventually saw the ground of New York. Raphael and she were the last ones out, and Leonardo replaced the manhole cover while the rest of the brothers scurried to the top of the closest building. Emerson was almost sure she would have whiplash from the speed they were going, clutching tighter and tighter to the turtle every time she felt herself go airborne, even if it was only for a few seconds. Even though Raphael was doing his part in holding her tight, she still couldn't bring her head up to look.

After a few terrifying minutes of travel, Emerson finally felt Raphael being to slow down, and ultimately stop. When she took a small peek to see where they were, she recognized the buildings that she would see from outside her bedroom window.

"What floor do you live on?" She felt the rumble in Raphael's chest as he spoke.

"Third from the top," She said, her heart still racing trying to recover from the run over here. "Middle window," she added.

Instead of the speed she felt from earlier, she now felt the gentleness and, somewhat gracefulness, as Raphael made his way to and down the fire escape, without ever making a sound. (Which was odd, considering even her weight would make the fire escape squeak, and he was much larger than her.)

Raphael turned around and Emerson was able to see all the turtles in front of her, staring into her bedroom window. It made her uncomfortable, but they didn't stare for too long before Donatello reached out, expecting the window to be locked. Emerson saw the look of surprise when he lifted the window with ease. He turned to her, with a hint of, worry?

"You really should lock your windows, you don't live in the best neighborhood," he said. Too exhausted to actually respond, Emerson only nodded. She agreed, she really should remember to keep her window locked.

Everyone started to pile into her room, Raphael and her being the last. When he entered the room, Raphael immediately dropped her to her feet. Only then did she release him from her grip.

It was somewhat awkward to have them in her room, looking at all her possessions and her personal things, but none of them were really looking at the room. They were all looking at her, each with a bit of worry in their eyes. It confused her to no end. They had just met, and not under the best of circumstances. Why were they so worried about her?

"Remember the rule, don't say _anything_ about us to _anyone_ at all. Not even our names. Got it?" Leonardo spoke abruptly.

"What if someone brings up the Renaissance?" Emerson said jokingly, trying to the serious mood in the room, but no one laughed. Although out of the corner of her eye she saw Mikey smile.

"Just be smart," Donatello responded. "If anyone asks you about us, deny your involvement as much as you can."

"Unless the person asking you has red hair and her name's April ONeil, then you can tell her," Mikey added, to which most of the brothers only rolled their eyes or shook their head.

"April ONeil?" Emerson questioned, recognizing the name. "As in the girl I go to school with? The one who's always with that hockey kid? She knows about you guys?"

Donatello nodded. "She will probably try to talk to you about us, you can say anything you want to her. Just make sure it's in a private place. April tends to forget," Emerson nodded, reminding herself to have a chat with April. "Are you feeling alright?" Donatello asked out of the blue. "You don't feel dizzy or lightheaded or anything?" She shook her head, she only felt exhausted. The night started out simple enough but had escalated rather quickly, and she was still trying to process it all.

"If you feel out of the ordinary in any way, let someone know, got it?" Donatello said rather sternly, but again, she only nodded. Content with her answer, Donatello gave a confirmation nod to Leonardo, as if to tell him that there was nothing more to do here. With that, the brothers started to walk back to the window, save for Mikey, who stood staring at Emerson and pouting.

"Not fair, I didn't get to carry her," he mumbled, crossing his arms like an upset child. Raphael grabbed the back of his shell and pulled him to the window where the other two brothers had exited. Raphael pushed his younger brother to the window and Emerson watched as he reluctantly climbed out. Raphael was the last one to climbed out, but instead of climbing straight up the fire escape as the others had, he stopped and looked back at Emerson, looking a bit conflicted. After a few moments, he let out a sigh.

"Sorry for making you pass out," he said quickly and climbed up the railing to his brothers. Emerson stood still in her room for a minute, her mind going a mile a minute. Shaking her head, Emerson went to close and lock her window, staring out of it and almost wondering if she could see the running from rooftop to rooftop. But she couldn't see anything except the darkness of the night sky and the lights of the city. She walked away from her window and quite literally fell face-first into her bed.

' _What the FUCK just happened?'_


	7. Chapter Seven: Adjustment

_It was dark - extremely dark - but she knew that if she could see, the air was cold enough around her that she would be able to see her breath. She tried bundling herself up in what she was wearing, but it didn't work. Panic started to rise in her; she didn't know where she was or who could help her. She was stuck._

 _Suddenly, the sound of slicing air was heard, along with grunts of pain and the sound of crashing limbs. The sound started to multiply as if there was more than one person around her now. Incoherent voices could be heard, and they sounded familiar. This went on for a couple of moments before the sound of fighting stopped as soon as it started. Heavy breathing replaced it, and the panic started to rise in her again._

 _As if on cue, Emerson could see now, as if someone had lifted a blindfold off of her. She saw the turtles, beaten and bloody, forced on their knees by men dressed in all black. Emerson felt a pang of guilt and terror and went to reach out, but her hands were tied behind her back. 'That wasn't there before…' she thought._

 _In her view, a tall man, dressed in metal from head to toe, walked slowly past the turtles, who hung their heads in shame. He walked as if to intimate her, going as slowly as possible and letting her get a good look at his size._

" _We told you not to tell anyone about us," she heard a whisper come from one of the turtles, although she couldn't make out who. Had this been her fault? Had she hurt the turtles and caused this whole mess?_

" _You should have listened," a deep voice rumbled from the man in metal. His voice was even scarier than his presence. He bent down, so she could see his eyes and the skin around them. She swallowed at the sight of the countless scars around both his eyes._

" _Now you will finally fulfill your purpose," he said reaching a hand out to grab her neck roughly. She heard a scream coming from behind him, but before she could identify it, everything was gone._

She bolted up from her bed, the scream still echoing in her mind. When she looked around, she noticed only her room drenched in early morning daylight. It had only been a dream. She placed a hand on her chest, feeling it rise and fall faster than it should, and tried to get herself to calm down. She hadn't had a dream like that since she was a kid.

Unlike her dreams before, this one hadn't been overly vivid. Her senses weren't overwhelmed with an onslaught of sights and sounds. It had felt normal, almost like a memory playing out in her head. What had really scared her was the ending. She had never seen anyone like that man before in her life. The way he spoke to her made goosebumps form on her arms. It made her feel as if he knew something, something that Emerson didn't, and that frightened her.

Grabbing her phone off of her bedside table, she checked the time. It was only a few minutes before her alarm would go off. She groaned but got out of bed anyway. Today was Friday, anyways. Tomorrow she could sleep in to her heart's content.

She dressed haphazardly, wearing only a pair of jeans, an oversized hoodie, and a pair of sneakers. She grabbed her phone and headed out of the room.

In the kitchen, she could hear her dad talking to Bug, and it made her smile. Her dad was one of the few people in the world that could make her smile, no matter the situation, all by just being himself.

"Yes Bug, I understand," she heard him say. "But if I give you more food than a cat of your age and size is supposed to have, then you'll become obese. Then you won't even be able to beg for more, you'll be too lazy," he said gently. As she walked into the kitchen, she saw Bug at her dad's feet, weaving himself between his legs as her dad stirred sugar into a mug of coffee.

"Hey Em," he dad greeted when he noticed she walked in. "I made coffee," he said, gesturing to the pot of coffee on the counter.

"Thank God," she muttered under her breath. She had a feeling that her nightmare would take a toll on how rested she was feeling. She poured herself a cup and added some milk and sugar. She took a sip and was pleased to find it was exactly to her likening. She felt a furry presence on her legs and looked down to see Bug.

"If it didn't work on Dad it's not gonna work on me, Bug," she said smiling, she had to praise Bug for his determination in getting extra food.

"How'd you sleep?" Her dad questioned, pulling out his phone when he felt a slight buzz. Emerson contemplated telling her dad about her dream or not. To be fair, it was only a nightmare, and she knew that nothing bad was actually going to happen to her. However, it did scare her, and the man in her dream made her wonder where she had seen him before.

"Fine," she said and shrugged, deciding not to focus on it too much. She glanced at her phone and noticed the time. She gulped down the last of her coffee and put the mug in the sink before grabbing her backpack.

"It's time," she said to her dad. Her dad usually drove her to school on the way over to his work; her school started earlier than most around the district. Her dad nodded, finishing his coffee before putting it in the sink as well. He patted his pockets making sure he had his wallet, keys, and phone, then grabbed his bag of important paperwork. He looked down at Bug and gave him a few strokes on the head.

"Sorry Bug, try again tomorrow," he said. Bug purred in response, which amused Emerson. Together, Emerson and her dad walked down to the car and started driving toward the school. Emerson was on her phone, trying to decide what music to listen to.

"I didn't hear you come home last night," her dad said, drawing her attention away from the phone. Her eyes widened a bit but tried to play it cool.

"Uh yeah, I came home later than I thought I was going to," she said calmly. Lucky for Emerson, she had become a really good liar during her childhood. Unlucky for her though, her dad was just as good at spotting her lies.

"Why's that?"

"We came up with a lot of good evidence for the essay, I wanted to get all of the stuff down so I didn't forget any of it," Emerson said, going back to her phone and hoping the conversation would end soon.

"Hmm," her dad said. "What are you going to write?"

"That women's lives didn't improve."

"What's your reasoning?" Now it felt like an interrogation.

"Well," Emerson started. "For starters, the 1920s brought a wave of new feminism in America, the whole "flapper girl" idea was sexually promiscuous women who wore dresses not to fit their figure, but because they liked the style. They wore makeup, they smoked, they gambled, they dated, they _voted_ , all things women had never done before. It was revolutionary," she said, almost as if she has rehearsed it. "But then, when you look at the 1950s, it's like women's rights had gone backwards. Women became second class citizens again because of the war. The nuclear family consisted of stay-at-home mothers whose only purpose in life was to clean, cook, and take care of the kids." Like mentioned before, Emerson was a great liar. Not only was she good at coming up with the lies, but she knew how to back them up.

"Well," her dad said, almost overwhelmed. "It sounds like you know your stuff," he said, pulling into the school drop off.

"I do," Emerson said, grabbing her backpack and phone. "Bye, Dad," she said as she got out of the car.

"Bye Em," he said, and drove off. Emerson looked back at her school, noticing how tired she was. She walked to her first class, English, and hoped the teacher was there so she could sit down in her seat and relax before school started.

Emerson got along well with all her teachers, she had since she was a kid. She always seemed to get nice, reasonable teachers that weren't out to get her.

She got to her class and thanked God for the second time that day that her classroom was open. She walked in and noticed there were more kids than usual in the room, each one of them with their noses deep into their notebooks.

"Emerson," she heard a rather chipper voice say. She turned and saw her teacher, Mrs. Hartman. "You here for some last-minute studying too?" Emerson stopped dead in her tracks and stared at her teacher. She blinked a few times trying to process what she had just heard.

"Studying?" Her teacher gave her an incredulous look.

"Yes, studying. For the test we have today," she said, before being pulled away into another conversation with a student.

Emerson racked her brain trying to remember any mention of the test. Then, it hit her. She did indeed have a test today, on _The Great Gatsby_ , a book Emerson didn't bother to read much because she told herself she would just watch the movie. She sighed, flinging her backpack off the ground and on the floor by her desk and sat down. She rubbed her hands on her eyes as if doing so would relieve the amount of stress she was feeling right now.

' _Today is going to be a long day.'_

Emerson walked out of her English class, knowing fully well she had probably bombed that test. She had looked down at the questions in front of her and didn't know a single answer. She tried not to think about it too much, at least it was over.

She absentmindedly walked to her next class, government. When she got to the classroom, she sat down at her desk which was next to a giant poster on the wall that read "Big Brother is Watching You,". Her life had completely flipped in less than 24 hours, and she was still trying to process all of it. Where had those turtles come from? They couldn't have just been born like that, could they? Why wasn't she allowed to talk about anything she has seen last night? What was that dream all about? And most of all, where did they learn to fight like that?

She felt a pat on her back, stirring her out of her thoughts. She turned and saw Lucy sitting next to her with a gray sweatshirt in her hand. Lucy timidly gave the sweatshirt over to its owner. Emerson mumbled her thanks and started shoving the sweatshirt in her backpack.

"Em, about yesterday, I'm really sorry for-"

"It's not your fault," Emerson cut her off. Truthfully, she had kind of forgotten all about their little argument last night. It didn't seem to matter much anymore, not after all that transpired after.

"It is," Lucy insisted. "I shouldn't have brought it up. I know you don't like talking about it but I did anyways," she sat down in the desk next to Emerson.

"It's no big deal, really," Emerson insisted with a bit of a smirk. "Let's just forget about it." Lucy stayed for a moment, seeing if she believed her friend's statements. Finally, she smiled and nodded her head in agreement. Before the two could say anything else, the bell rang, indicating the start of the class.

"Alright everybody, take your seats, welcome to day 202 of your senior year," the booming voice of their teacher was heard through the classroom.

"Now who's ready for some politics?!"


	8. Chapter Eight: Questions

Class had gone as it normally had, and Emerson was glad she decided to forget about her and Lucy's argument. It would have been a tremendous pain trying to stay mad at her for the rest of the day.

The two were packing up their stuff, which consisted of only notebooks and pens. Now, they had Nutrition, which was just, in Emerson's opinion, a glorified break. They had fifteen minutes to themselves, although they usually either spent it in their Government class or English class.

"How was the Gatsby test?" Lucy asked. Emerson shrugged.

"I didn't read any of the assigned chapters so," she said.

"You forgot? How could you forget? She's been reminding us every day!"

"I guess I've been… busy," she finished, not having an excuse. Lucy started to head out of the door, noticing that Emerson was lingering.

"You coming?" Lucy asked.

"You go ahead, I got to talk to Kevin about raising my grade," Emerson lied, hoping Lucy wouldn't notice. To her luck, Lucy only shrugged and said goodbye as she walked out of the door. The classroom was fairly empty now, save for her, her teacher, and a few studious kids trying to do their homework.

Emerson walked up to her teacher's desk, where another chair was placed for students. She took a seat while putting down her backpack.

"Hey, Mr. N," she said casually.

"Hello Ms. Adler," Mr. N said whilst typing away. "What can I do for you?

"I kind of have a history question," Emerson said.

"Kind of?"

"Well, it's more of a recent history question. A recent history question about New York."

Mr. N glanced at her suspiciously but finally turned all his attention toward her, whatever he was working on his computer forgotten.

"Okay, I'll bite," he said, leaning back in his chair.

"Um..." Emerson thought, not knowing where to start. "Do you know what Purple Dragons are?"

Her teacher stared at her for a moment.

"Purple Dragons?" He asked skeptically. "You mean like, literal dragons?"

"No no, it's like… um," she tried to think, trying to describe them. "It's like a group, and I think they're bad?"

"...Like the gang?"

"Yes!" She said loudly. Making the other kids in the classroom look over to see what the commotion was about. Emerson lowered her voice.

"Yes, like the gang," she said.

"Okay, what about it?"

"Well, I guess I just want to know about them, in general," she said. She realized she hadn't thought this whole plan out very much.

"You know I'm not really the right person to ask about this, right? I mean you could just as easily look it up," he said.

"I could, but then I wouldn't get the full Mr. N experience," Emerson joked, "That and Google doesn't really know what I'm trying to look up." What was she supposed to say? ' _Oh yeah, last night I watched these 4 giant turtles beat up an entire gang of ninjas and Purple Dragons. Then I passed out, and when I woke up the giant turtles told me to stay away from them AND Purple Dragons.'_ It sounded so idiotic.

"Well, all I know about them is from what I hear on the news," her teacher said. Emerson got the feeling he didn't exactly want to have this conversation.

"That's fine," Emerson reassured him. With one final suspicious glance, Mr. N let out a defeated sigh and straightened in his chair.

"When everybody first heard about them, it was basically a joke," he started. "They just didn't do anything bad enough to make anyone afraid of them. They broke into some cars, robbed some convenience stores, did enough so that they got on the news, but not enough to actually scare people. Everyone made fun of them, and if you were a Purple Dragon you definitely weren't out flaunting it. Even they knew how bad they were at being bad." Emerson nodded but was internally confused. This didn't sound like a group she should particularly be staying away from.

"Then, all of a sudden, they started getting.. good. They weren't just doing petty crimes anymore, they were robbing warehouses, taking hostages, demanding ransoms. For the first time, people were scared of the Purple Dragons."

"If people are scared of them now why haven't I heard about them?"

"Because they disappear just as fast as they come back," at this, Emerson looked at him with confusion. "You can go for months without hearing anything about them, but then one day, you hear on the news that they're…" he thought, trying to come up with a fake scenario, "at the docks, holding up an entire shipment of something and the police can't get through. You start to think 'Are they actually going to get away with it this time?' And then, they'll screw something up, or not have enough backup, and the police will catch them before anything happens. And it goes on and on like a cycle."

Emerson nodded. It made sense, and she figured that the police weren't the only ones credited to stopping the Purple Dragons. However, she still didn't understand why she had been told to specifically stay away from them. From what she heard, the Purple Dragons was just another street gang.

"Have you heard anything about them now?"

Mr. N shook his head. "Not recently, which means they're probably scheming something up," He shrugged. Another kid came up behind him with a textbook in hand, saying something about not understanding the material. Mr. N excused himself to help him while Emerson garbed her stuff and headed out. She had expected to gain some answers from her teacher, but instead, she was left with more questions. New York was filled to the brim with all kinds of street gangs, so why was it the Purple Dragons she had to stay away from?


	9. Chapter Nine: Answers

Raphael started to feel the sweat that had built up on his next run down his back between the cracks in his shell but tried to ignore it. His wrapped knuckles hit the punching bag again and again without mercy. The past couple of days had been stressful for the turtle, and the lack of action on the streets meant he wasn't able to let out his frustration on anyone. And seeing as Leo frowned upon him beating his other brothers, the punching bag was his last resort.

In the distance, Raphael heard Mikey on the couch yelling at the TV screen while playing some video game he had found in the pile of DVDs. Donnie was, of course, in his lab, running more experiments on God knows what, and Leo was talking to Splinter about… whatever those two talked about in private. From the lab, Raphael heard the sound of machinery turning off. Panting, he stopped the attack of the punching bag, fearing that he would overexert himself.

"Hey, can I talk to you?" The voice of Donnie came through the doorway. He had his welding gloves on still, and the smell of oil and metal was pungent. He looked worried, not in the normal "I'm-Donnie-and-I-worry-about-everything" way, but he looked actually and genuinely worried.

"Sure," Raphael said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, trying to catch his breath a bit. He grabbed the punching bag to stop it from spinning, then grabbed his water bottle from the ground and started drinking from it. He walked over to Donnie, who was still tense by the doorway.

"What's up?" Raphael asked.

"I was making some repairs on the Shellraiser and I just.. I started thinking-"

"What? You, thinking? Never." Raphael joked, trying to get to calm down just a little, Judging by the face Donnie made, it didn't work. Donnie rolled his eyes and ignored his brother's jab.

"I was thinking about that fight we had the other day, with the Foot and the Purple Dragons?"

"What about it?" Raphael shrugged.

"Didn't something seem…" Donnie started waving his arms a bit, trying to find the right word. "Odd to you?" Raphael blinked at him.

"Odd how?"

"When have you ever seen Purple Dragons and the Foot in the same room, let alone working together for an ambush?" Donnie asked bluntly. Raphael thought about it and had to admit it was odd. The Purple Dragons had always been too stubborn (or too stupid) to allow any kind of help from outside gangs before. And as far as Raphael knew, the Foor hated the Dragons. In the Foot's eyes, they were just a wanna-be, pathetic street gang. After the moments of silence, Donnie spoke up again.

"I've thought about it, and what reason do they have for working with each other? I mean the Foot already have the numbers on their side, they have Shredder, there's literally no reason for them to be working with the Dragons. Unless-"

"Unless the have some sort of deal with each other." Raphael interrupted again, but Donnie didn't mind this time.

"What kind of deal do you think they made?" Raphael asked. Donnie shook his head.

"For the Foot to agree to work with the Purple Dragons, they must be offering something good."

"You think that's why everyone's been so quiet lately?"

Donnie shrugged, "Maybe. All I know is we have to be on high alert." Raphael nodded in agreement. ' _And just when I thought we had a break'_

"Have you told the others?" Raphael asked.

"Not yet, I'm going to tell Leo as soon as he's done meditating and I'll tell Mikey… whenever." Raphael nodded, and Donnie walked away. Raphael leaned against the wall, pondering just what kind of deal their two enemies had made, and if it could possibly involve them.


	10. Chapter Ten: Forgive

"I _despised_ the book. There was no real character development, it sounded like Fitgerald wrote the whole book as if he were writing a book report on a book he hated. And don't even get me _started_ on the whole car switch scene. None of it made sense!" Emerson couldn't help but laugh a little at her friend's ranting. "I'm just glad that unit is over," Lucy sighed with relief. After their political class, the day had gone by as usual, much to Emerson's liking. She was trying to keep a level head after the chaotic couple of hours she had had, but that was pretty difficult when seven different questions kept floating in her head all at the same time. They were now walking home, the sun and the sky that pretty orange color it got as it started to set.

"Well you're more qualified to have an opinion on it than me," Emerson joked and Lucy laughed.

"I still cannot believe you forgot to read the book. It wasn't even that long."

"Well judging by the way you openly hate it I'd consider myself lucky," Again, Lucy laughed at the joke. Emerson kept her eyes locked forward as they started to pass through an alleyway. She was scanning the area in front of her, making sure they were not about to walk into anything like what she witnessed yesterday.

"Em, are you okay?" Lucy suddenly asked, making Emerson look in her direction. Her face seemed fine, but her voice indicated worry.

"You just seem a little off today. Are you still mad about last night, because I really am-"

"No no I told it's all good," Emerson reassured her friend. She wanted to tell Lucy. God how easy would it be to just spill and tell her everything she saw last night and ask her what she should do? But no, she made a promise, and Emerson would be damned if she ever went back on a promise. However, she couldn't exactly lie to Lucy, her best friend would be able to see right through her. So, a half-truth would have to do.

"I had a nightmare last night," Emerson admitted. "Like the ones I used to have as a kid, only a lot more real."

"What was it about?" Again, she had to cover-ups some details.

"I was tied up, and this guy in a mask told me I was going to "fulfill my purpose"," Emerson shrugged. Talking about it now made her feel a bit pathetic, being sacred of a nightmare as if she were eight years old.

"Did you recognize the guy?"

"No, not at all. What's with all the questions," Emerson asked somewhat jokingly.

"Just trying to understand," Lucy said, "I mean, I thought the last time you had a dream like that was when you were really young." Emerson nodded her head, agreeing with her friend.

"I think I've just been stressing out a bit," Emerson said softly, trying to reassure Lucy. She didn't want her to worry too much, especially over something she really couldn't help with.

"Wanna go to my house and do face masks?" Lucy said with a smirk, elbowing Emerson in the side. Emerson snorted at her friend. She really was lucky to have Lucy, though she wouldn't ever tell her that; Lucy's ego was already too big. Emerson rolled her eyes but nodded nonetheless. With that, Lucy linked her arm through Emerson's and speeded up in the direction of her house.

* * *

The four brothers gathered just by the exit of their home, each equipped with their preferred weapons and masks. They were about to go on patrol and Leo needed to make sure everyone was on the same page tonight. After Donnie told him about his suspicions toward the Dragons and the Foot, both of them agreed that they couldn't be too careful.

"I just want to make sure everyone is giving their 110% tonight," Leo started, looking at everyone (But mostly at Mikey, which made the youngest turtle confused). "For the past week or so we've been slacking on patrols because we think that there's no threat. That can't keep happening anymore. If you have complaints," Leo looked at Raphael and Raphael clenched his jaw, "Or if you get bored," Leo looked at Mikey and Mikey resisted the urge to stick his tongue out, "Or if you get tired," Leo looked at Donnie and Donnie looked at the ground, "I don't care. Save it for when we get back. Understood?" A chime of yeah's and yeses responded, and Leo knew that was as good as he was going to get.

"Then let's go."


	11. Chapter 11: Fear

**Hey all, author here. I know I haven't added and AN before, mostly bc I know no one reads them. But I wanted to give you guys a heads up for this chapter. TW! MENTIONS OF RAPE, VIOLENCE, AND SWEARING.**

It was about 10 o'clock, and Emerson was walking home after spending the afternoon with Lucy. She wasn't too excited about walking home walking this late, but she felt a need to. It wasn't like she hadn't done this before, she grew up in New York her whole life. She had grown used to the sketchy places and creepy people. Ultimately, Emerson felt like she had to do this, like she couldn't give herself an option. She wanted to prove that no matter what had happened, her life was going to go on just as it had before. There was no need to put her life on hold just because some half-human half-turtle boys spooked her, right?

She continued walking until she spotted the alleyway she tried to use last night as a shortcut, where she stopped and contemplated for a second. On the one hand, she could avoid the alley and go the long way. Although it would ease her mind, it would definitely make her journey home longer than expected, and she knew her parents wouldn't be too thrilled with that. On the other hand, she could endure the agonizing two minutes it took to go through the alley and get home much faster, even if she had a heart attack while walking.

She mentally laughed at herself. ' _Look at yourself, Emerson. Listing the pros and cons of taking a shortcut.'_ She had to agree with herself, ever since last night, she had been way too paranoid. If this were any other normal Friday night, she would walk through that alley with no hesitation. So, there was no reason not to now.

With her mind made up, she started to walk through the alley, slowly at first, as if she were afraid someone was going to pop out at her. She was instantly relieved when she looked through the alley and saw no one, and mentally scolded herself for throwing such a big fit over nothing. She had never let anything get to her like this before, and it was honestly starting to scare her.

Then, behind her, she heard what sounded like heavy feet shuffling on the asphalt and the slurred giggles of a couple of men. Emerson felt a shot of adrenaline and fear flow in her, but she refused to turn her head. This was New York after all, and unless they gave her a reason to look back, she was going to mind her business.

"Nice ass, babe," she heard a man yell to her, followed by howling laughs from the other men. She clenched her jaw, and if she had not been so determined to get out of that alley as fast as she could, she might have turned and given that jackass a piece of her mind.

"Hey, excuse me," the voice spoke again, much rougher and louder than before. She knew he was getting closer. "I'm talking to you." Everything in her body told Emerson to book it as fast as she could out of that alley, but she kept her ground held her head up.

"Oh wow, you're a lot prettier from the front," to her horror, the man was walking beside her now, with a sly smirk on his face. She tried to look forward, but she found herself making small glances to the man, watching as he stared at her. She could hear the footsteps of four, maybe five other men directly behind her now too.

"Why don't I show you my favorite thing in all of New York, huh? We don't even have to walk to get there. All you gotta to is get down on these knees…" He suddenly put a big, meaty hand on her shoulder and put pressure on it, trying to get her to lean down toward his hips. The smell of booze wafted over her and that was her final straw. Her body finally giving in, she brought her knee up toward the middle of his legs and connected, hard. He immediately fell to his knees, groaning in pain. After he let go of her shoulder, she ran for the end of the alley. Her hope was that they would all be too stunned to move, and by the time they realized she was running, it would be too late. However, just before she could make it to the end of the alley, multiple hands grabbed on to her arms and her waist, dragging her back and pressing her onto the wall so she couldn't move. She started flailing and demanding the men that they let her go, although she really couldn't be sure exactly what she was saying. The adrenaline and her fast heart rate clouded her ears so she could barely make out what she or her captures were saying.

After a short moment, she saw the man who she kneed toward the middle of the alley, breathing heavily and starting to stand again. She was a goner, she knew it. There was no way she was going to come back from kneeing this guy in the crotch and trying to get away from it. While the man was still recovering from the blow, she started to struggle again, hoping the hands around her would lossen. When she felt the hands tighten even more, she screamed. She screamed for help, she screamed fire, everything she had been told to scream in this scenario. Then, she felt a sweaty palm slap her cheek, bringing a stinging sensation with it. Almost as soon as she felt then hand touch her face, she could taste her own blood. She spit on the ground, the taste and the pain making her nauseous. When she looked back up, the man was gazing over her with eyes that told her he was ready to kill. He grabbed her jaw forced her to look up at him.

"You fucking whore," he looked like he enjoyed using that language. "For that, I'm gonna make this a lot more painful for you," he smiled and roughly let go of her chin. Then, she realized, his attention was now at the button of her jeans, and she saw his hand reach for them. Instinctively, she started kicking, trying to make sure he wouldn't be able to get through without getting hurt. She saw his face become irritated, trying more and more forcefully to get to her jeans. Just as she started feeling like she had the upper hand, she felt a fist, which had been previously pinning her down, make contact with her side. She let out a cry and crumpled into herself. Had it not been for the hands on her, her limp body would have sunk to the ground. She whimpered, swearing to herself that something had broke. She tried to slow down her breathing and the incoming tears, as any movement of her chest brought excruciating pain.

"That's one way to make her stay still," the man in front of her laughed, as well as men on her side. "Now I promise, babydoll," the term made her want to vomit. "You stop resisting and we'll st-" whatever he had been saying was suddenly abandoned when the man looked her in the eyes. She was uncomfortable with his intense stare and wanted to look away, but when she tried, held her head in both hands and prevented her from diverting her eyes. The sudden movement made her side flare, but she kept the whimper in her throat, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had hurt her.

"No shit..." The man said, sounding shocked, "Boys, look at this." Although she couldn't see the men's faces, she could feel everyone's eyes on her. She started darting her eyes to the exits of the alley, hoping, praying someone would pass by. She thought for a second that she saw a shadow pass by on the wall opposite of her, but before she could look again, the men started talking again.

"She's the one, definitely," one said. ' _What does that mean?'_

"Didn't think it would be this easy," another laughed ' _What would be easy?'_

"Boss is gonna be happy to see you," the man in front of her said with his evil smile. ' _Who's your boss?'_ "Shame that we don't get to play with you though," he said, leaning in toward her face. Emerson had to resist the urge to spit in his face.

"Alright boys, keep a good hold of her and we'll take her-"

"You're aren't taking her anywhere."


	12. Chapter Twelve: Unknown

Leo and Raphael both stood on top of the apartment building, waiting for their other two brothers. They hadn't been out for long, but the plan was to split up and meet up again in intervals. And, big surprise, both groups found nothing to report. Raphael didn't know whether to be glad or concerned. As they both stood to peering out looking for their brothers, Raphael noticed Leo's unusual silence. It wasn't the stoic, proud kind of silence he usually left the group in, but more of a pondering quietness.

"Whaddya think they're up to?" Raphael asked, certain his brother already knew what he was talking about.

"I have no clue," Leo said. "That's what's so worrying."

"You think it has anythin' to do with us?" Leo stood staring, giving no indication that he even heard the question. But, after a few moments, he sighed and looked down.

"If it does, we'll deal with it," Leo said, and looked at his brother. "For now, all we can do is be cautious." Raphael rolled his eyes. That wasn't the only thing they could do. If he was in charge, they'd be finding the nearest Dragon and beating him to a pulp until he told them everything. But, he wasn't. And he knew that the likelihood of getting a Purple Dragon to talk was slim, so being cautious was their safest bet. In the distance, he could hear the sound of slicing air and knew his other brothers were almost there. It didn't take long for Raphael to see their figures jumping from building to building until finally, they were all on the same roof.

"It's freaky, dude," Mikey said, panting a little. "The streets haven't been this quiet, _ever_."

"I think we can officially say that something is up," Donnie spoke up. "Not counting that encounter last night, this is the longest we've gone without hearing from them."

"What are we even supposed to do?" Mikey asked. "Are we supposed to, like, pretend we don't notice?"

"They can't be that stupid," Leo said quietly, almost to himself.

"They can," Raphael rolled his eyes a bit.

"The Dragons maybe but not the Foot. They've got to know that we've noticed by now," Leo started walking to the edge of the building, looking out.

"It's like they're toying with us…" Donnie continued talking, but as he spoke Raphael heard something in the distance, something that sounded like a scream. It was distant, but he swore it sounded like a cry for help.

"Wait, shut up," Raphael said, holding out a hand in front of his brother. Donnie looked at his hand, annoyed with the gesture, and was about to speak up when Raphael shushed him loudly and said, "Listen." Suddenly, all four brothers went still, trying to listen to whatever Raphael was hearing. Seconds passed, and Donnie was about to scold Raphael for hearing things, when, out of the blue, he heard a distant but clear scream, almost like the person was screaming "fire". After looking at his brothers, it was evident that everyone else heard it too.

"It came from over there," Leo said, pointing toward an alleyway. Raphael could have sworn it was the same alley as last night but didn't let himself dwell on it too much as he started sprinting toward the noise. He could hear the sound of his brothers following him closely. It took only a few seconds for all of them to reach the roof overlooking the alley. As his brothers joined him in watching, he saw five men, four of which were pinning down a young woman. Although he couldn't see her face, she was strangely familiar to him. Although Raphael couldn't exactly figure out how. He watched as the other man started reaching down for her clothes, and Raphael immediately wanted to jump down and kill him. All four brothers winced as they heard the girl wail as she was hit, and by now, Raphael's anger was almost at the tipping point. Then, everything stopped as fast as it started. The man wasn't trying to get into her pants or calling her a whore anymore, in fact, he looked at her like he was almost astonished. He grabbed her face with both hands, looked at her with wonder, and told the other to look too. They all started commenting on it "being her" and "how easy" it was. Watching him take her face in his hand was it for Raphael. He knew his brother would be pissed. He'd probably get a lecture on something about teamwork or some other bullshit. But he honestly couldn't care less at this point. Raphael was going to put an end to this, now.

 **Hey all! I know, another AN Im SORRY. But, I just wanted to pop in to say thank you guys for all the review I've gotten and all the support I've gotten. I'm sure you know that with everything going on, I've had a lot of free time, so expect some more updates! I'm also working on another story, so keep an eye out. Anyways, please stay safe out there catch you guys later. (If you've read this far, comment who your fav turtle is and why!)**


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